My Sizzling Summer Holidays
by guitar848
Summary: Summer Holidays. A time for lazy picnics. Swimming. Pick-up Quidditch. Ice cream. Shopping in Diagon Alley. Stuff like that. Instead, for my last summer before I'll be graduating Hogwarts and moving on to real life, I get so much more. Blazing rows with my oldest brother. Annoying family obligations. Meager amounts of quality time with my boyfriend. My typical Lily Potter luck eh?
1. It's Too Hot in the Kitchen

My Sizzling Summer Holidays

**Author's Note: Ok this is the first chapter in what I expected to be a quick one-shot. But, as it turns out, the scene I wanted to be the focus takes some time to set up and I'm sort of running with it. Now, I'm planning on around a half dozen chapters that span the whole rest of Lily's summer. As usual, I do not own anything recognized as coming from JKR. All I have is a plot and some OC's. Also, I'm not sure which of my stories will get priority right now. Feel free to sway me in one direction or the other by reviewing. I'm pretty stuck with both. This story does happen in the future of TSGSG. Thanks for stopping by!**

Waking up in my bedroom at home automatically puts me a good mood. That's because for the last six years it's meant one of three things. That it's Christmas holidays, Easter holidays or…wait for it…SUMMER HOLIDAYS! Yes that's right; the summer holidays get me excited, almost as much as giant ice cream sundaes at Fortescue's, Quidditch matches and Black Death (a hardcore rock band, not the dreaded world decimating plague) concerts do.

My bedroom at Potter Mansion has, among other things, a mattress that only I've slept on (this compared to the one on my four poster at school where Merlin knows who has over the years), a funny thing my dad installed called an air conditioner (which beats having to keep up a Cooling Charm overnight, especially when it's over 90°) and obviously privacy (impossible to attain in the Gryffindor dormitories for sure).

This whole waking up thing is what I'm supposed to be doing right now, but frankly it's not going so well. My bed, with the ultra-comfy quilt my Grandma Molly knitted for me on it, is just too nice and warm right now in my blissfully chilled room. Who wants to get up, showered and dressed and leave this heavenly environment to venture out into the sticky, humid rest of the house? Honestly, I ruddy well don't. And why should I have too? Incidentally, my dad is Harry freaking Potter, you'd think if he appreciates Muggle stuff so much he'd just get what they call central air. I've taken Muggle Studies so I know it exists and I'm pretty sure all my Muggleborn friends have it at their houses. Fork over the Galleons Chosen One, we'd all be more comfortable around here. Anyway, I've just decided I won't leave my room for the rest of the day. Well, except to get food at some point if I can't get our house elf Oswald to bring me some. Did I mention I have a television in here? I could waste a whole day using that beautiful machine alone. Mum doesn't understand TV much, but Dad still got one for the den, their master bedroom, one of the guest rooms, Al's room, James's room, Teddy's room for when he stays over and my room. Even I know that's a lot of them and I'm not even a Muggleborn.

All of a sudden, my peaceful musings are rudely interrupted as I hear someone turning my door knob slowly. I will my eyes open and stare in that direction as the person pauses. My bedroom door then promptly bursts back on its hinges from the force of an enthusiastic spell. Reacting, I instinctively pull the covers over my head for protection. I'm all Gryffindor I swear.

"Get up Lily! Everyone's downstairs or coming over soon. Mum wants you up!" declares Albus loudly. So much for serene calm, not to mention that privacy I was talking about.

Pulling the quilt down, I groan pitifully at my older brother, who has strode all the way across the room to flop down at the foot of my bed. His emerald eyes gaze at me playfully as he lies there with his hands cupped behind his head. "What are you bloody on about Albie?" I say, both annoyed and confused. The clock on my night table says its 11: 17, which I guess is an alright lie in, but it could've been even better if some specky git hadn't come in and ruined it.

"Ah, you've forgotten eh?" he says, smiling calmly.

What a sweet boy I think sarcastically. And just what is he talking about? I would know if I had plans for the day. As a matter of fact, I had just made a plan and he's spoiling it with talk of mothers and going downstairs. I scrunch up my face with dislike and confusion and stare at my 19-year-old brother, hoping he'll get the picture and GO AWAY.

"You know," he continues, quirking an eyebrow, "We've all got to go into Diagon Alley to get fitted for Molly's wedding in March."

Ugh, he's right. That's flipping today? What a drag. My cousin Molly, who is named after our grandmother, is 24 and works as the Junior Undersecretary to Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. She is marrying a Healer by the name of Thomas Hawking who is 26 and went to a small wizarding school in Germany instead of going to Hogwarts. Tom is quietly handsome if I'm being honest. In fact he's quietly everything, which makes him perfect for Molly. The times I've seen the two of them together at family holidays these past two years or so I've noticed they barely need say a word to each other to express their feelings. Seriously, sometimes I really feel like butting in to say something like, 'Enough mooning at each other over the potatoes! Say I love you and go back to eating your food already. We get it that you're in love and have this sort of mental telepathic connection!' Inward sigh. At least they seem happy together in their own way. I suppose that's why their actually getting married after almost 4 years together. Sometimes I worry about their future kids ending up mute though, as their parents are so calm, serious and shy they'll probably forget to talk to the little buggers on a regular basis.

"C'mon it won't be all bad!" cajoles Al, noticing my lack enthusiasm, "We can all go off and do fun stuff in the Alley after it's over. We'll make a really Weasley/Potter day of it."

Big of my brother to put a good spin on something that's sure to be close to torturous for all involved. But that's Albus for you, ever the optimist. "Is Mum going? Is Aunt Audrey?" I ask, still skeptical about the whole plan. Albus shakes his head no and smirks. We both know that's one reason to believe things could be looking up today. At the same time though, his answer scares me a little bit. How on Earth are we going to get anything serious and productive done without the parents around? I can just see it now: Molly and Rose bickering about bridesmaids' dresses, Freddy slothing about lazily as he hits on sales witches and/or Hugo breaking something expensive. I broach these thoughts with Al and he laughs knowingly.

I'm just sliding out of bed onto the floor, when my mother's voice penetrates through my pale gold walls and ceiling like a bloody Howler. "LILY LUNA POTTER IF YOU ARE NOT DOWN STAIRS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES I'M COMING UP AND IT WILL NOT LOOK GOOD FOR THE WORLD CUP IF I DO!" threatens her magically enhanced voice. I look at Al and he smirks. Talk about embarrassing if half my bloody cousins really are downstairs. How many mothers out there go to the trouble to use the magical megaphone spell just deliver their daughter a wake up threat? I roll my eyes so my brother catches it and walk over to my dresser to start yanking open the drawers. There's no time to shower with that warning, so it's lucky I took one last night after we had a rousing evening Quidditch match with the gang.

"I can't wait to just go to the Cup next week so she can stop using it to threaten me," I grumble loudly, noticing as Albus summons my lucky Quaffle off the shelf and begins to toss it about. He grunts in agreement as I pick out a pair of comfortable navy cotton shorts and a white tank top with navy blue stars on it. I hope we don't have to get dressed up just to go in this stupid shop because I'm not changing. Walking over to my adjoining bathroom that I don't share with anyone (so awesome!), it strikes me suddenly that Albus is just hanging out in my room. Not that I mind his company when he's being so normal, but it's still odd. "What are you doing?" I demand abruptly, hovering in the doorway of my bathroom.

Albus raises his eyebrows to the sky. "Wow," he deflects automatically, "I just come up to save you from Mum waking you up instead and then I sit down to spend some quality time with my only sister and she's already kicking me out!" The methodic thump of the Quaffle hitting his hands does not break rhythm as he talks. My brother's hand-eye coordination is top notch and I almost hate him for it.

Grrrr…I want to hit him badly after such a response, but that would only delay things immeasurably. Instead, I change my approach on a Knut. "Why are you deflecting Al? The whole bloody family is downstairs from what I understand. Why aren't you back in the kitchen by now eating breakfast with Rose and Teddy and whoever?" I ask pointedly, leaving the bathroom door partially open so I can hear his response.

Al sighs loudly and tells me Teddy is at work. As if that was my real point? I can still hear the faint rhythmic thud of the Quaffle. He is still un-rattled by my approach. "Albus Severus be straight with me right this instant! We haven't got time to dawdle over this!" I demand loudly, while combing my straight auburn hair and putting it in a ponytail. Merlin, when did I get so pushy? The Quaffle is now quiet and so is Al, but it's not like I don't expect this. He's not the sort to just spit out what's bothering him, Rose and I both know that.

Only problem is, I've heard my Mum loud and clear. So we haven't got time for the normal course of things. And yet, I wait a few more minutes. As I get dressed, brush my teeth and go to the bathroom I'm hoping this supportive silence will encourage the response I'm looking for from the hesitant male. Finally I come out the bathroom, putting on my favorite flip flops, to see Al poking around in my Pygmy Puffs' cage like I haven't asked him a thing.

"Ahem," I say loudly, glaring at him as I walk over to my dresser and strap on the delicate silver watch my parents gave me for my 17th birthday last October, "You were about to tell me why you're standing here ogling Casper and Aurora, who don't really like you by the way, when your best friend and the rest of our cousins are downstairs?" I grab my white silk money sack out of my underwear drawer and ease it into my pocket. It feels a bit light, so maybe a quick stop at Gringotts will be necessary after we get out of the bridal shop. I also go over to my nightstand and snatch up my wand, pocketing that as well.

Albus eventually turns to me and scowls. "What do you mean they don't like me?" he says, pretending to be offended. Way to deflect yet again idiot. I don't say another thing as I concentrate on figuring out if I need to bring anything else into Diagon Alley with me. It's only the beginning of July and therefore I don't have a new book list to deal with just yet. On September 1st, I will finally be a 7th year at Hogwarts and this generation of my family's magical schooling will be nearly complete.

My brother fidgets uncomfortably and I can tell he's on the verge. The clock on my wall tells me its six minutes to my mother's deadline for my appearance, but apparating down will thankfully save me time. I'll have to get Al to take me side-along though, seeing as I failed the stupid test in Hogsmeade back at the end of last term. Honestly, everything would've been perfect if there was an entrance on the roof of the Three Broomsticks. I mean really, what's a dozen feet off the ground here or there? That's what I have a wand for right? To get me out of situations like those? And besides, it's not like I splinched myself or something obvious like that.

Whatever, I'm totally over it. Instructor Thatcher was just plain exaggerating when he said my deliberation was off. Or was it my destination? Either way, Mum's been nagging on me to retake it ever since I got home. What's the rush? I mean Roxy passed, so she's been taking me with her and we're nearly always together these days.

I walk past Al and throw some food pellets onto the floor of Casper and Aurora's cage, where they dive at the offerings happily with their tiny mouths. Looking at my owl Pongo's perch, it's empty. He's probably still out hunting, so I just put a couple owl treats in his tray so he can have them later. I shudder at the thought of him bringing another dead rat into my room but firmly cast the image aside. One day, I swear I'll get used to his captured prey.

"Alright, I guess I'll tell you," says Al. About ruddy time I think, replacing the bag of owl treats in the drawer of my desk. I gaze at my brother with the most supportive look I can muster. "I'm avoiding James!" he says bluntly and starts grinding his teeth noticeably.

"Ah. I see," I say, remarkably unsurprised, "The Class-A tool is here is he?" That's such a nice thing to call your oldest brother, don't you agree? If you don't agree then surely you don't know the details. My oldest brother, the one and only (Thank Merlin for that) James Sirius Potter, International Quidditch Chaser Extraordinaire, has become a bloody freaking, self-absorbed arsehole. I should quickly mention, before I get on a roll with the insults, that I will always love my brother.

James taught me things about Quidditch and being a Chaser that even Mum and the rest of the Potter/Weasley's never could. He's protected me from numerous detentions at school and several scolding's from Mum, even though we pulled the pranks in question together. Once, when we were little kids, my cousin Roxy and I got stuck climbing a tree in our grandparent's yard and he was nice enough to fly up and get us. I was crying, because arm had caught on some painful thorns, but he never told a soul. Anyway you get the picture, James is a great brother. Wait correction… _was_ a great brother. Now he's a ruddy, soul-less, oblivious, money-grubbing git with a trophy girlfriend.

It all started when he signed with the Appleby Arrows Quidditch team coming straight out of Hogwarts. That fall he moved into a small house, 20 miles from the Appleby training grounds, with his best friends Trevor Wood (Keeper) and our cousin Freddy Weasley (Beater). Appleby, mired in a decades-long mediocre streak, had been the only team in the league willing to sign all three Gryffindor alumni and start them immediately. Of course, they had jumped at the chance to stay together and the challenge that would come with changing the future of the organization.

In all honesty, it had been great back then. James, Trevor and Fred all tore up the league that season, James in particular. He was still dating his girlfriend from Hogwarts, fellow once-Gryffindor Heather Ramsden. The quiet, smart Muggleborn had dutifully tackled Healer training after graduation and we were all sure they would last. You know, it was like their relationship was in the start-planning-the-wedding, I-wonder-what-their-children-will-look-like mode. They had been friends about nine years, a couple for over three years… when it all went to Hell.

To put it bluntly, James let fame go to his head. That damn ego of his that I've been raining on for my whole life suddenly became out of control. His rookie trading card for the Quidditch League was in high demand and selling for Galleons more than any witch or wizard had ever seen after he'd set a new league scoring record in his first go round. In his second season, James and his mates led Appleby Arrows to another Quidditch League Cup and then the coveted European Cup, the first for the Arrows in centuries. Then suddenly, sometime after the Euros last summer, he and Heather broke up. No one, not even Albus or Trevor or Freddy has any idea what happened on James's end. All Heather's said, via her best friends Keira Morley & Rigel Wicklow, is that somehow everything changed. Both of them still refuse to say who broke up with whom.

In the end though, I blame James. I know great family loyalty right? Screw that. I mean, Heather is still single as last I've heard and has plunged even farther into her work. On the other hand, my brother has serial dated like a player ever since, his newest squeeze having lasted the longest yet, at about 4 months. Her name is Lucia Stradale; she's an Italian model and a racing broom company heiress. As a matter of fact, James now rides a Stradale Cielo Quattro (say that 5 times fast) in all his matches. What a whipped bastard if you ask me.

"Well...Ah I see!" shouts Albus incredulously, breaking into my reverie with a bang. "Is that all you've got to say? Isn't it awful? I can barely look at our own brother Lily. He's a changed man," adds my second oldest brother. I look distractedly at the guilt and confusion building in his bright emerald eyes and it cuts right through my anger at James. This is hurting Al and, as much I pretend I'm good with staying angry at Mr. Quidditch Star Man-Whore as long as it takes for him to see reason, it hurts me too.

I sigh dramatically and throw myself down into my desk chair, thinking hard. Up until now it hasn't really been hard for me to avoid the situation brewing with James. I had already been at Hogwarts nearly a week this past term when the news broke about him and Heather. Naturally I wrote him about it straight away, trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that I'd read it in both Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet before hearing it from him first. I had been compassionate and un-judgmental in the letter (at least I'd like to think that's how it read), offering him someone to talk to about the whole thing when he was ready. In a way though, James blew me off. His response letter had come over a month later and only included one line about the breakup. '_By the way Lil, some things simply aren't meant to be and are therefore, not worth discussing. You needn't worry about me_.' That's what he'd written, or something very close, before launching into some long ramble about how stressed he was trying to pick the right endorsement deals. He sure has a way of making his only sister feel appreciated huh?

The first time I saw him face to face after that was over Christmas holidays, at the traditional Weasley family Christmas Eve get-together at the Burrow. He was arm and arm with his girlfriend of the month (Not Lucia) that night and too busy putting on his usual charming show with Freddy for us to talk much. After the party, he brought the girlfriend home to Potter Mansion for the night and she spent Christmas Day with us, opening presents and then having Christmas dinner nearby at my Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's house. Needless to say, I wasn't about to tear into him on Christmas, especially when his latest trophy wouldn't leave his side except to use the bathroom. By Boxing Day they were gone, with James choosing to play in an off-season tournament in Spain until New Year's. He got us a bunch of tickets to the final, which he won, and went out to dinner with us afterwards. Then quick as he could say '_Have a brilliant semester sis_', it was off to an after party that he wouldn't tell us where it was. Easter hols were a wash; he stayed away completely, choosing to spend time with Lucia and her family in Capri. Finally, last week I saw him at his birthday party here at the house and then again later that night at the party Trev and Fred threw for him at their house. As you can see, it's been too easy not to broach the subject with him at all. I doubt he even knows Al and I are in a strop with him.

"I know it sucks Al," I agree sympathetically, "Maybe today we could have a real talk with him in the Alley, minus the girlfriend. I assume she's here now?" My brother nods and makes a face. Lucia is a straight up looker, but I get the feeling she's not Al's type. It's probably because she's part snotty bitch for starters. I met her last week at the birthday celebrations and she was trying way too hard to find something we had in common. In case you were wondering, she didn't find anything really, except we like Chocolate Frogs and that we both have our own owls. In the wizarding world that's as normal as breathing air and wearing clothes. I'm pretty sure I have that stuff in common with three quarters of our world. But anyway, maybe I'm just being too critical. Seeing as I'm still a huge fan of my brother's ex, who's the complete opposite of a brainless, model/heiress. I look at the clock again, and we should go down NOW.

"Right, Mum's expecting us in the kitchen," I say carefully, "But we'll get everyone on this I promise, all the cousins. Take me down side-along will you? Or I'll be getting a talking too from Mum." I grin at him hopefully.

"Yea alright," says Albus walking towards me, "Full speed ahead eh? He can't go on shutting us out like this forever. Ready?" I nod and get out my chair. Bracing for apparition, I hold out my arm to Albus. He takes it and the room begins to spin, then it's gone.

It's a short journey downstairs and seconds later I open my eyes to find myself in our front hallway, right outside the kitchen, still clutching Al's arm. I thought we were going in the kitchen? His aim can't be as bad as mine. I pitch forward a little while I get my bearings and he peers at me carefully before releasing my arm. "Still get dizzy after apparating huh? By the way, I still can't believe you didn't pass!" he chuckles lightly and I leer at him spitefully for both slights. It used to be worse though, a lot of times when I was younger I would get dizzy enough to fall over completely and make a fool of myself. He and James both love to take the mickey out of me for that to this day. I mean really, like I'm the only witch or wizard alive or dead who's had a balance problem? Impossible.

"Well anyway, I thought that'd be the case," continues Albus wisely, "So that's why I chose this spot, so you get yourself together before going in. Beats looking silly in front of James and Lucia don't you think?" I gape at him a bit and he shrugs. It's pretty sweet of him to protect me like that and it strikes me randomly that he's more grown up then I tend to realize, even if he does still live at home.

"Yea, thanks Albie," I say sincerely, "I probably would've ended up landing in someone's breakfast." I clap him on the shoulder awkwardly. "But now I'm late for Mum's little deadline!" I add teasingly. I can now hear loud, indistinguishable chatter coming from the spacious kitchen. It sounds like a regular party in there. No doubt the rest of my cousins have arrived.

My brother laughs and shakes his head incredulously. "It's not like she was counting the seconds or anything," he says doubtfully.

Just then a wave of enhanced sound breaks over us from a few yards away in the other room. "LILY WHAT DID I SAY?" says Mum's voice seriously. Maybe she was counting the seconds I think ruefully, sharing a look with Al. I jerk my head toward the kitchen and he follows me into the din. A scene of utter chaos meets my eyes. I don't even know how Mum can tell I'm not there. Freddy is hunkered down with a plate of food, shouting loudly across our kitchen table at Hugo as Rose and Lucy chat away about work nearby. Louis is throwing food at our pet Crup Quiver, who's barking like crazy, while Roxy watches him. James and Lucia are snogging over their plates, oblivious to all of it. Dom is flouncing around helping my mum and I catch her rolling her eyes at the couple scornfully. Even if I had fallen into someone's breakfast after apparating I doubt the rest of them would've noticed. It then hits me that I can't remember the last time this many of my cousins were in the same room on a weekday. At this point it's only Roxy, Hugo and I who aren't out of school and working stiffs.

Mum continues to shout into her megaphone enhanced wand, holding it lovingly like I've seen more than few lead singers hold their microphones. In the other hand she's wielding a hot frying pan full of bacon. I'm not even really sure what she's saying anymore, despite the volume, because everyone's so bloody distracting. "Oi Mum, you can cut it out now I'm here!" I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth to project across the battlefield that is our kitchen. But she can't hear me. That's just terrific. I give Al a look and he suddenly nods like he's got an idea. That's great, because aside from walking over to her and risking a frying pan to the face from getting her way, I've got nothing.

Albus pulls out his wand and mutters a series of quick spells. Immediately, his Patronus (a tiny silver kingfisher) flies over to Mum and speaks into her ear. She turns quickly in our direction, smiles and starts gesturing with the frying pan, basically asking us if we'd like breakfast. We both nod enthusiastically and try to find seats around the large, rectangular oak table. I thank Albus for his fast thinking (yet again) and then budge in next to Roxy at one end, while he positions himself across from Rose and as far away from James as he can. I'm truly relieved to see that Mum hasn't got the time or the concentration to nag me about sleeping late with all her hungry nieces and nephews around. Not that I don't appreciate the woman, it's just sometimes she chooses the wrong battles with me.

"Look who's finally making an appearance," says Roxy, through a mouthful of Cocoa Quaffles, obviously just noticing me, "I thought your Mum was going to bust when she realized we were practically waiting on you. The appointment's at like 12:30," I snort incredulously and start chowing down on the fresh, gooey bacon and egg and cheese sandwich that Mum's just hovered over to me. At least she knows what I like to eat, I think contentedly.

"Oh yea, everyone's waiting on me!" I retort, "Nobody still eating or snogging their girlfriend's face off or goofing around in this kitchen." As I say this my eyes drift over to James and Lucia, who are still proving my point. It's simply too…too _much_. I can't believe Mum or anyone hasn't interrupted them yet. Actually, I take that back. Mum's probably just glad to have her oldest child in her kitchen for a change. Roxy follows my gaze and then abruptly chokes on her Cocoa Quaffles in disgust, thus leading me to believe this is the first she's seeing them at it. Hell, I don't know what's wrong with her, I noticed as soon as I walked in the room. "Obnoxious isn't it?" I mumble, glancing quickly down at my plate as they finally come up for air.

Rox nods in agreement and casts her own eyes into the milky depths of her cereal bowl before she can be accused of staring as well. "Their worse than you and Damian with the public snogging," she says incredulously. I throw my cousin a quick scowl, even being compared in the same hemisphere to my brother and his spit buddy makes me want to vomit. "What?" she defends insistently, "The number of times I've seen the two of you at it…at least I still said they were worse. You and Damian are great together, it's cute. James and that girl are not." I suppose she has redeemed herself, putting it like that. I incline my head slightly in acquiescence and go back to attacking my sandwich.

Rox bringing up Damian makes me smile automatically and I finger the necklace I'm wearing that he gave me thoughtfully. Damian Patrick Gillespie, current Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Beater, possible candidate for this year's Head Boy and my boyfriend for over just over a year and a half. Is case you were wondering, he is a half-blood but grew up Muggle, has straw blond hair that barely wisps over his forehead and blue eyes with a just hint of green. In the right light I find they look almost turquoise, like one of those crystal-clear Caribbean waters surrounded by a white sand beach. He's also tall and has a Beater's typically well-developed arm and abdominal muscles. I know, he sounds barely human, but he's also got his bad habits like the rest of us mere mortals.

Damian asked me to accompany him our early October Hogsmeade trip 2 years ago, after months of casual interest on both our parts. That Halloween we became official. The last two weeks he was in Ireland visiting family. Two days ago though, he owled me to say he was back in England. I'd tell him I was going into the Alley today, but I reckon this is going to be more of a family outing. When I tell him, he'll understand why I went without him, as our relationship is easy like that. "Oooo… totally busted!" mutters Roxy, eying me suspiciously.

My best friend is crazy, don't mind her. "I dunno what you mean Rox," I say, finishing my first breakfast and gently sliding the box of Cocoa Quaffles towards me. I eat more than normal when I'm irritated, and right now that'd be James's fault. The man himself currently has this smug look plastered on his face and his arm wrapped around Lucia's shoulders as they chat with Dom. As I continue to curiously observe however, the smug look becomes strained. It appears Dom is basically interrogating them and they aren't enjoying it. Lucia is clenching her pearly white teeth and has her hand under the table, squeezing James's knee hard. I can see him struggling to not show pain in his face as he urgently pats her hand, hopeful she'll take her frustration at our cousin out on something else besides him. I hope he has a killer bruise coming. That's our Dom for you though, tough-as-nails Cursebreaker for Gringotts just like her Dad, my Uncle Bill, once was. I wonder what she could possibly be badgering them about.

"Don't play dumb with me Lil," demands Roxy, snatching the box of Cocoa Quaffles away from me. She gets very territorial about her favorite cereal. As I suppose you would be too, if up until recently every time you went to eat them at home, the box was a prank filled with brown glass marbles or something else instead of Cocoa Quaffles (real funny Fred). "You were caught up thinking about that man of yours," she teases, waving the box in my face annoyingly.

Using my best Chaser reflexes, I snatch the box away from her and pour some straight down my throat. Mmm…chocolaty. I look around carefully. Good thing Mum didn't see me doing that. "Uh he's my boyfriend. It kind of comes with the whole being in love thing," I explain to her as I put the box down and levitate an unused bowl over to me from somewhere on the table.

"Love?" says my oldest brother, suddenly snapping to attention and jerking away from his girlfriend like it's a contagious word, "Who's in love?" I don't even think I said it that loud, but he looks directly at me as I combine milk and Cocoa Quaffles in my bowl and grab a spoon.

"You aren't really in love Lil. You're too young," he says seriously. The people around us suddenly get oddly quiet. It's lucky Mum's off letting Quiver out at the moment or she'd be likely to witness me hexing her firstborn very soon.

'What would you know about it Jimmy?" I snap coldly, glowering at him fiercely over my bowl, "Besides, what about Mum and Dad? I suppose they're not really in love then huh. They wanted to be together by the time Dad was in 6th year!" Now, the whole table has gone silent and is paying rapt attention. Further down the table, I catch Albus's eye and he shakes his head just a fraction in warning. Seems he doesn't bloody well think we should do this here and now. I flick my eyes back to James, who is staring at me and betraying a bit of surprise at the snarky comeback but still deadly serious about giving me advice about love. As bloody if I would take it.

"Excuse me?" he asks intently, leaning over the table to get closer to me, "What exactly does that mean?" I roll my eyes and chew thoughtfully on my cereal. "I have had my own experience with 'love'. You and what's-his-name…Danny… make it out of your little Hogwarts bubble and then have the nerve to say you're really in love," he continues, voice slightly raised. His hazel eyes are hard and dangerous. I probably hit a nerve but that's good, it's a start. "And as far as Mum and Dad are concerned there was a damn war on. It's different!" he adds. Fine, go ahead and use that as their reason I think, one argument at a time. It's not like I don't know any other couples that got together at school. There's Albus and his girlfriend, and Ted and Victorie, who are married with a kid at this point. Also, my Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. I suppose they are a loose interpretation of 'got together at school' but whatever, moving on.

"It's Damian. His name is Damian not Danny," I say with forced calm. Under the table my leg is shaking uncontrollably in agitation. I have my mother's temper and if I don't make an attempt at mastering my anger I blow sky high. "And at least we're in a committed relationship, which more than someone can apparently say about you," I add. This nasty barb is fuelled by comments Lucia made in this month's Witch Weekly, which came out five days ago. She said that her and James are having fun but are still open to seeing other people. Inwardly, I can't believe I just used something written in Witch Weekly to intentionally piss off my own flesh and blood. But he did just make a mockery of my relationship. James's jaw is set rock hard and I can see a vein twitching in his temple. He makes to stand up suddenly, but Freddy pulls him back into his chair with a questioning look. For the love of Merlin, I wish someone else would freaking say something. Back me the ruddy hell up brave Gryffindors. C'mon anybody?

In the background I can hear Mum humming to herself in another room as she does her own thing, oblivious to the tension. Lucia wraps herself around James's arm and begins to stroke it in, what I guess she thinks is, a comforting manner. All it does though, is it makes me want to know something else from my brother. "So then tell me James, now that you've moved on from what you had in "the Hogwarts bubble" are you now 'really in love'?" This answer ought to make some things more clear, no?

"We're figuring that out," says James evasively. At the exact same moment Lucia says, "Of course we are." Splendid I think spitefully, as she turns to look at him eyebrows raised. Apparently, it comes as a shock to her that they aren't both in love. I probably could've told her my brother doesn't feel that strongly about her at this point (probably never will) and we barely even communicate with each other. James refuses to meet her eye and instead goes back to eating his breakfast deliberately nonchalant.

"Well then what about what you said in the Witch Weekly article about being open to seeing other people?" mentions Rose sensibly. Finally, another voice makes an entrance into this conversation. I wasn't expecting it to be my quiet, smart cousin but I'll take it. I wouldn't be surprised if Rose could quote the whole damn article, so Lucia better have her story straight. The dark-haired girl smiles and places her head on James's shoulder, even though two minutes ago she was looking at him askance. My brother doesn't bother to shove her off. It blows my mind.

"I just said that for the press. Both of our images would suffer if the public thought we would never breakup. How many more figurines would James sell to fan girls if they thought his heart was off the market for good?" she explains. All along the table my cousins raise their eyebrows and nod politely. Dom, Fred and Louis all start to snicker quietly. Lucia takes a French manicured finger and strokes my brother's chest. This…this snob really loves my brother I realize appalled, that or she's using him to the point where she's convinced herself she does. I used to be able to read James like a book. Even back in second year, when he didn't put me on the Quidditch team I had a feeling that's what he wanted to do, only I'd convinced myself he wouldn't dare. He did dare and things got messed up between us for some time. Now I'm looking for an English translation and he's in like Arabic…or I guess literally… in Italian.

Suddenly Mum walks back into the room, head down, reading something on a piece of parchment. She's probably saved a full out shouting match from erupting if I had managed to get in another question at James. Everyone tries to act like nothing's been going down by grabbing their utensils and eating quickly. "Less than half an hour until you lot are supposed to be at the dress shop!" she says looking around, "Best finish up and not keep your cousin waiting. Poor girl has enough to get on with worrying about." Lucia has extracted herself from James and is rooting around in her massive pocketbook. "Oh Lily!" calls out Mum, as she starts washing the dishes with Rose's help, "You left your white sunglasses on the hall table again." She always insists that Oswald and his fellow house elf Gertie not do them, which I don't understand. She says finds washing dishes therapeutic though. I stop glaring at my brother's little sex kitten long enough to give a Mum an appreciative thumbs up as she tosses the glasses to me with ease.

Everyone is getting up and milling about now, discussing whether we want to Floo directly into the shop or Apparate to outside the Leaky Cauldron and walk over. I'm putting my empty bowl in the sink as I hear someone say that Vic and Molly herself will meet us there. Albus has quickly popped upstairs to get his money bag and Lucia is on the phone, hand and hand with James.

"Say Louis, you haven't seen my new Ferrari Modena have you?" my brother's saying, "Chia gave it to me for my birthday." He squeezes her hand and kisses it. She gives him a half grin as she yeses someone on the phone to death. Louis shakes his head no and the three of them go outside with Freddy, Hugo and Lucy to see it. I'd go, but I've already had the…err…_pleasure_. So have Fred and Hugo of course, but their boys and can't get enough of the damn thing. Besides, I couldn't be within five feet of James at the moment, out of range of our mother, without hexing him into next year. I'll need to get over that impulse soon though, as I can't very well attack him in public can I?

In order to prevent this act of violence welling up inside of me, I walk out of the kitchen and into our den to find Roxy and Dom playing with Quiver. "Are we leaving yet?" Dom asks me impatiently, throwing Quiver's toy clear across the hardwood floor.

"Whenever the boys can pry their eyes off Jamesie's precious car and Rose stops kissing my Mum's ass by helping with the dishes," I say, throwing myself into a large wingback chair. Dom rolls her eyes in annoyance and continues to play fetch with Quiver. Roxy stops playing and starts studying me rather un-discretely. In order to avoid her penetrating brown eyes, I take my wand out of my pocket and start polishing it with the bottom of my tank top. I can't wait until she starts analyzing my row with James, it'll just make my mood so much better.

"So what do you reckon Molly actually picks out decent dresses for us bridesmaids?" I say conversationally, doing my best to avoid the subject on my fellow 17-year-old's mind. Roxy's eyes narrow and she gives me a dirty look for deflecting, but Dom decides to sportingly play along. The 23-year-old thinks the odds are good the dresses will be decent, considering Molly's somewhat plain taste in clothes. Lucy, Dom, Victorie, Roxy, Rose and I are all going to be bridesmaids and because Tom is an only child with no best friends: James, Al, Hugo, Fred, Louis and Teddy will be his groomsmen. Because he and Tom are about the same age, Teddy also offered to step up and be the bloke's best man. Decent of him if you ask me, he barely knows the guy. Teddy is however very friendly, I have no doubt he'll make it work. Lucy is going to be her sister's maid of honor, which is hardly a surprise considering the fact that Molly makes friends with textbooks easier than she does humans. At the moment I have nothing against this wedding, except that it puts me direct contact with James for the next couple hours at least.

I can't believe he was such a ruddy arsehole in there, lecturing me about love? Really? Just because it didn't work out for him with Heather doesn't mean Damian and I are not in love. And while I'm on the subject…Danny? Did he fuck that up on purpose to make a point or does he really not listen to me when we speak? I mean, he even met Damian on Christmas Eve last year at the Burrow. It's just rude, dirty tactics and totally mean-spirited. Ugh, I want to rip my hair out he pisses me off so much. Forget the plan Albus and I made upstairs for some half-cocked intervention or whatever today. Now I don't even care if he goes and jumps in a lake and takes that girlfriend of his with him. I hope Lucia and Quidditch and his new car make him the happiest man on Earth because until he apologizes profusely, gets down on his knees and begs me to forgive him, he won't have a sister that talks to him. That is if I can control myself from shouting at him during the fitting. I will try though, for Molly's sake.

"So about what James said…" begins Rox, fake casual, "It was a bit intense." She grimaces and looks at me, then so does Dom as she wrestles the toy from Quiver's mouth. I wonder where saying 'I don't want to talk about it will get me'? I try it, with feeling, but neither of them let me off the hook. "I'd probably have leapt across the table and killed him" says Rox earnestly, forging past my reticence.

"I'd have hexed his balls off and then killed him," says Dom, going one further. She flounces her straight silver blonde hair and looks menacing. I get the feeling she's done just that on the job somewhere. It's no wonder she doesn't have a boyfriend. As far as I'm concerned, she's way too intimidating. In Dom's defense though, she hardly seems to mind singledom these days.

"Mum and Dad taught me murder at the breakfast table is wrong," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. My cousins both laugh and eventually I smile too. I realize just because James is an ass doesn't mean I have to be mad all day. Out of nowhere, I miss Damian. He would've ripped my brother's head off to defend what we have. I'll have to make sure never to tell him about this morning's row for sure, it would only make him unnecessarily furious.

"Oi we're leaving! I've finally got Rose to go outside to the Apparition point!" says Albus, coming into the room, "What's so damn funny?" He looks around at us and ruffles his hair in confusion. We all say it's nothing and follow him outside quickly. On the way out the side door of the house we all say good bye to my Mum and she reminds me we need Crup food. Great, that should be a laugh to carry around all afternoon. I'll have to get it last minute. Lucia is gone when I get outside, which is a bit of a relief. My brother doesn't look half as foreign to me without her at his side. I still ignore him though and he does likewise.

We stagger the Disapparitions so that all of us don't show up in the Leaky Cauldron at the same time. Last time we went somewhere as a family we did make that mistake and there was a near riot. Nearly all of us are famous for one thing or another, it's not only James and Fred who have made careers in the spotlight for themselves. Albus co-runs his own magazine. Rose makes political waves at the Ministry. Louis is a photographer. Dom breaks curses and sometimes discovers legendary treasures. Lucy is an Unspeakable, nobody knows much about this so it doesn't make her famous, but we all think its wicked cool.

That leaves Hugo, Rox and I, seventh years and still unsure if want to be any of these things. The three of us Apparate last with Al because Hugo needs someone to take him side-along too as he didn't pass his test either. It wasn't nearly as close as mine if you're wondering. There was a painful splinching of his whole right foot off in the process, the ruddy idiot's lucky he can walk and the damage wasn't permanent. Everyone knows he's scared to try again now so we don't even go there with him yet. Key word yet, as I'm going to make damn sure he passes sooner than later. We'll practice together. As Rox and I vanish into space, I spare one last regretful thought to my original plan for the day, so much for just having a little peace and quiet.


	2. Dresses & Dom's Dramatic Decision

Author's Note: Ok, this is seriously my bad. This chapter owned me for weeks. Despite starting with a 2/3 of the finished product and having the ending in a notebook, I couldn't do a thing with it for days on end. This ending is not my original ending, because honestly this is long enough and I'm tired of it. James's original disappearance in QQS took on a whole new challenge after I realized he wasn't just in the next aisle signing autographs! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the first part of their Diagon Alley Afternoon and I would love some feedback! And, just for the record, all canon HP content belongs to JK Rowling. Thank you.

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I reappear next to a lamppost on the ever familiar Charring Cross Road, directly in front of the famous Leaky Cauldron. As usual, the Muggles ignore both the building and our group that's just appeared out of thin air, so we in turn ignore them. I suppose that's the key to the Statute of Secrecy or whatever; if you ignore the Muggles, they'll ignore you and thus… the wizarding world won't get found out, or something as moronically simple as all that. A bright London sun beats down upon us and I briskly follow my cousins and brother into the modest pub, wondering what sort of reception we'll get today.

The Leaky is currently brimming with the early lunch crowd, mostly witches and wizards that have unshackled themselves from their desks at the Ministry or Daily Prophet for a brief respite. This volume helps us preserve our anonymity a fraction longer than usual and I follow Hugo and Roxy as closely as possible, as they weave single file through tables and diners alike behind Albus. By the time we pass the bar however, I can already hear people starting to whisper and point in our direction.

"Wasn't that Al Potter? You know, the editor of 5W Magazine?" some young wizard asks his girlfriend as I push by. It's hard to get around them as they're sharing a stool, with her legs sticking out into the aisle.

"Would make sense!" says the witch enthusiastically, as she twists her neck around to catch a glimpse of my brother's darting figure, "James Potter and Fred Weasley just walked through here ten minutes ago. Maybe he's meeting them somewhere." I roll my eyes incredulously.

"Yea that's right!" shouts a middle-aged wizard to their left, "James Potter just gave me an autograph. There's a bloke who really responds to his fans!" Cue me fake hurling, as he continues, "My wife also swears she just saw Louis Weasley sneak past here with one of his sisters. She'd know, as she loves his work. They came through the kitchens! I wonder where they're all going."

If only he knew, I think sarcastically, before scampering away at a near run to catch up with the others. Albus moves pretty damn fast in these situations, I have to say. Practice definitely makes perfect. Of course, it really makes sense that he hurries right now, seeing as he's finally being recognized left and right by Leaky patrons. Most of these people can, at the very least, pick a decent Harry Potter look-a-like out of a crowd. And that's not even including the other 16-35 year-olds around here, who are actually recognizing him because they buy the majority of his magazines every month.

This magazine is the main reason my brother's so popular these days, it isn't simply being Dad's son any more. I knew his wearing a newsboy cap and sunglasses (to hide his noticeable green eyes) weren't going to fool anyone long enough. Al actually flirted with the idea of taking Polyjuice Potion today. In the end though, he decided he didn't fancy being stuck looking like some random bloke any longer than it took to walk through the pub. While my second oldest brother doesn't bask in his celebrity like James, he is comfortable with it enough to go out in most public situations without it bothering him. That being said, I wouldn't be surprised if he winds up signing a few autographs pretty soon. He's got a kind, patient nature with people that way. I mean, I've seen James sign plenty autographs before too. But, I don't know why, it just makes me feel like he's trying too hard to be important. Merlin, I'm probably being super biased. Anyway, it's just a feeling I get. Hey, it's not like someone's been asking for my autograph lately so I can test my own way of handling it. Maybe I would be like James and not Al.

True to form, Albus stops before we reach the back door to the walled courtyard and jots his name on the few pieces of parchment thrust in his direction. He also whips off his sunglasses and smiles candidly for some pictures, before politely holding up a hand and ducking for the door. I think they must've caught me in the background in a few shots, as is the usual when I'm out with either of my brothers now. Hope they got my good side then, I consider, as we approach the entrance to Diagon Alley.

We don't have to bother with tapping the bricks on the wall (good thing, as I've never gotten the combination straight in 17+ years on this planet), as a group of older wizards are already handling it. Incidentally, I've always wondered how random witches and wizards, who are in town visiting, figure it out. Do they just floo into the Ministry? Does, Hannah Abbott (a friend of my Dad's, who owns the Leaky) tell them? If they haven't got family around here, how do they know?

As usual though, it's a topic for another day. Following the short queue that's present, we pass into the Alley and the gateway seals itself behind me. It's always intimidated me a bit when that happens, like a tiny shiver of claustrophobia creeping into my head. Walking along behind Rox and Hugo, I try to scope out our destination: Madame Pointer's Wedding Emporium. Dom told me it's a decent sized shop, painted off white with lavender trim, not five minutes walk into the Alley.

Albus strolls beside me, with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nodding smartly at random passersby who wave at him. I ignore these people easily and focus on my task. One of us has to find the place and it certainly won't be the boys, what with Hugh's unobservant streak and Al's polite catering to his readers distracting him. The only reason Roxy tends to miss things too (and don't tell her I said this), is because she walks so bloody fast. Honestly, no one's brain could possibly process all the stimuli around here at her traveling speed. Mind you it'd probably still be impossible if you were crawling along, as there's that much to see. Finally though I get lucky, spotting Madame Pointer's two doors away from the Magical Menagerie. That reminds me, got to remember that ruddy Crup food for Quiver later or Mum will surely start harping about the World Cup again. I wonder how I could innocently remind her I'm of age and can technically do whatever I please within the law.

A bell tinkles faintly in the distance, as we walk into the shop and look around curiously. None of us have been here before. For Vic and Ted's wedding, Aunt Fleur called in a friend from France to do all the measurements and tailoring. I suppose that's not in Uncle Percy's budget for Moll's big day though. The shop has two large, frosted glass windows with displays in them, one a realistic floating mannequin of a groom in stately black dress robes. The other shows a bride: she's dressed in a multi-layer, cream-colored gown and wearing a glittering tiara.

"I've heard about this place!" Rox suddenly says in my ear, "Supposedly, if you stare at her long enough, (she means the faux bride) you see yourself in her place all done up to walk down the aisle at your own wedding. Apparently, if you've met your true love already you also see a vision of him standing at the altar." That's some story, I think incredulously. I catch Hugh's eyes widening as he listens in, he totally believes it. Albus however simply scoffs and rolls his eyes, before walking over to the reception desk. A skinny, pleasant looking witch that I hadn't noticed at first is sitting there with a telephone and a large ledger.

"Rubbish Rox!" I snort derisively, "Who fed you that bit of horseshit?" My cousin scowls at me defensively. She's always been a bit of a romantic. As if I'd honestly have a premonition of mine and Damian's wedding if I stared at that mannequin? Yea freaking right. I say this to Rox and she decides to play devil's advocate on me.

"But you see… that's the mystery of it. What if you looked and you didn't see Damian? What if you saw a faceless stranger, thus symbolizing you hadn't found the right soul mate yet? That maybe your boyfriend you were happy with, wasn't the one? Or worse still, what if you saw someone you already knew but weren't dating? Who you had never considered dating? Or, who was dating someone else and you couldn't have them? Wouldn't that be terribly tragic and awful?" rambles my best friend.

That's it. I really, really want to know who fed her this idea, because it's now annoying me. My patience today with getting relationship advice is already seriously thin. In the name of Merlin, there are no stupid magical mannequins just floating around this world that can tell me how my love life is going to turn out. Hell, that'd be even more hypocritical than my stupid brother, who was trying to do something eerily similar. But, at least James hasn't pretended he can actually predict the future with certainty, instead of just being an interfering git. Or…at least he hasn't yet. I wouldn't put it past him to try though. I ask her again where this, for lack of a better word, rumor, came from. "Laney," she says simply.

Ah, Laney. That explains it. Laney Du Pres is our dorm mate and fellow Gryffindor seventh year back at Hogwarts. The petite brunette is… how to put this kindly… a wild child. I don't think she's ever seen a party she didn't like and the same also goes for boys. Laney likes them older than her normally (she once had a crush on Albus, but it never panned out), and is a fall in and out of love in-a-second romantic. I have no doubts she's considered marrying all her boyfriends at some point.

Incidentally, she also has a twin brother named Ollie who briefly dated Roxy. It was one of those brief, awkward, destined to fail romances that happened back in our 4th year. You know, the type that includes a couple of Hogsmeade weekend dates and some adorably cute walks around the Black Lake complete with hand holding and the occasional quick kiss? He was Rox's first official boyfriend (not counting this Ravenclaw she snogged behind the greenhouses a few times in 3rd year) and to this day is still very sweet and innocent.

But alas, that was the trouble. Roxanne eventually wanted a little bit more romance and excitement in her love life and poor Ollie just wasn't capable of it. So they split up and remained friendly. I don't even think he took the whole thing personally because, at the heart of it, Oliver's one of those Gryffindors who you wonder why he wasn't sorted into Hufflepuff instead. Not that that's a diss or anything. I'm sure the same thing was said about Professor Longbottom once or twice. And look what he did to Voldemort's snake in the end. He's a right hero. No, truth be told, I really have a soft spot for Ollie and so does Rox. His twin on the other hand, is crazy. She's always worth having a couple rounds of firewhiskey with, but borderline delusional about some things. My case and point, this absurd mannequin myth she's supporting.

"Was Laney drunk when she told you this?" I ask my cousin, "Because I wouldn't put it past her to have made the whole thing up on a whim." Rox smiles in spite herself, much as the romantic in her would like to defend Laney's idea to the death, my joke _is_ kind of funny (and probably very true).

"She said she heard it from a cousin," says Roxy, shrugging half-heartedly. I catch her giving the female mannequin a wistful glance. "Wonder what'd show about me and Tristan…he means a lot to me," she murmurs, half to herself. Tristan Galloway is her boyfriend and one of Al's best friends. He has dark, almost black hair, rare amber-colored eyes and works in the Department of Magical Games & Sports, Quidditch division, at the Ministry. They've been dating for just over 14 months.

"Look and you shall find all the answers you seek!" I say grandly, my voice dripping with sarcasm and doubt.

Hugo snorts in amusement at my tone, probably trying to make up for appearing gullible before. Rox gives me a slightly scathing look and shakes her head. I kind of get the feeling that, believing the myth like she does, she's actually afraid to stare at it. Maybe afraid the vision wouldn't show Tristan waiting at the end of the aisle for her. That maybe, they aren't a perfect match. Unfortunately, I just think the whole thing is stupid, which has probably resulted in my taking this teasing of my best friend too far. She's starting to look vaguely depressed about the whole thing.

"What's a matter Rox?" I ask seriously, as Albus calls the three of us over. Instead of answering though, my cousin just shakes her head and shrugs moodily. As we walk behind a new Madame Pointer's employee (a slightly dumpy witch in robes of mauve) down a cozy carpeted hallway towards the back of the shop, I'm pretty miffed. It isn't like Roxy to be so serious and quiet about something, especially right after I've teased her about it. Normally she'd be fighting back, hitting me or arguing or whatever. Hugo just gives us both a leave-me-out-of-it look and splits off to join Albus and the other boys in a fitting room marked: 'Wizards Only'.

The witch points me and Rox in the direction of the one marked 'Witches Only' across the hall and then disappears back the way we came in. I sigh as Roxy ducks in ahead of me and blows off talking about what's gotten to her. I don't reckon I should be apologizing or anything, (it's not like I insulted her directly, unless she's taken to feeling for the mannequin or something) so I just let it go for now. I'll just buy her a drink at lunch later and she can either 'fess up or bury her feelings deeper, whatever suits her.

Walking into the fitting room is oddly reminiscent of walking into my kitchen earlier this morning, except in here people are half-naked. On one wall is a row of changing stalls, separated by partitions and closed in the front by heavy, opaque purple curtains. No doubt if you were a more modest bride or bridesmaid, the idea would be that you could change behind them in relative privacy. Thing is, this bunch of Weasleys aren't modest or shy. Dom is currently walking around in her black bra and panties holding up two dresses appraisingly. Lucy meanwhile, is wearing a third dress and checking herself out in one the room's many full length mirrors. Rose is standing near her, in just a t-shirt that comes down to her mid-thigh, critically observing a seamstress witch while she sticks pins in my cousin Molly. My soon-to-be- married cousin is modeling, what I assume, is her gown. Tucked in the corner of the room, looking sorely out of place is a pram. Sitting inside it, looking wide-eyed at the chaos surrounding him, is my second cousin, baby Adrian Peter Lupin.

He is Teddy and Victoire's 1 and ½ year old son and has inherited his mother's silver-blonde hair and his father's natural (when he's not changing them) brown eyes. Apparently in this case, at least in the first battle, when veela genes meet those of a Metamorphagus, the veela wins out. Adrian cannot change his appearance like this father and grand-mother are/were able to. Of course, it's not certain he'll never be able to, as the genes do lay dormant inside of him, but all past knowledge of the gift indicates he would have done so by now. Ted and his mother were both known to have started changing within a few days of their birth. Regardless of all that, he's still a really cute bugger. I mean, so what if he can't make his hair match these ugly-ass curtains? All of us love him to death, but I currently wonder if he's being scarred for life by witnessing this family event.

"Hey Vic!" I holler, looking around to find my oldest cousin, "I think your scarring your kid."

The pretty blonde suddenly appears, wrenching back the curtains of one of the stalls and sticking her head out. "Tut Lily, do not be so dramatic!" scolds the imperious 25-year-old, "He is fine, better in here than in the boys fitting room with Ted and the others. They are way too rambunctious." It's hard to disagree with that statement. I shudder to think of what sort of tomfoolery is going on in there.

"Alright well, you'll be singing a different tune if his Auntie Dom accidentally flashes him as she struts around nearly naked right now," I say, shrugging and walking over to the pram to say hello to him.

Vic thinks this over for a sec and then predictably shouts at her sister to at least put a shirt on if she's going to walk around. Dom pretends not to hear, as she makes Lucy walk back and forth and spin in one of the potential bridesmaid dresses. It's some sort of shiny, silky material in a vibrant shade of green (sort of reminds me of freshly mown grass on a Quidditch pitch), with a full hooplike skirt from the waist down to the floor. The top is more fitted, with a brocade of flowers bordering the under bust. Its color and conical shape honestly say to me one thing: Christmas tree. It's almost like Luce is wearing an evergreen, only a few shades lighter than normal. Judging by the skeptical look on Dominique's face, she's thinking along the same lines as I am.

"Not exactly flattering," I pipe up, jerking my head at the dress and picking Adrian out of his pram, "But if it was a little darker… at least it wouldn't clash with our red hair." Molly, Lucy, Roxanne, Rose and I all inherited the Weasley family red hair. Not that Moll has to worry about hers in this case, she's wearing white. I have it darker than the others, redder with slight brown highlights instead of orange. More like my grandmother Lily's and less like my mum's I guess. In my arms, Adrian grabs a loose strand of it, wraps it around his baby fist and pulls. Impish little devil isn't he? I scowl and tug it free.

"Maybe if the green _was_ darker it'd be better," murmurs Lucy, agreeing with me and thoughtfully picking the skirt up off the ground to examine it. Dom pantomimes sticking her finger down her throat and gagging, while fervently shaking her head no. I guess she considers this one a lost cause, no matter what color it is. I snicker and Adrian squeals at his Aunt's silly gestures.

"What if it was more form fitting on the bottom? I mean it's not like any of us are fat," Luce adds, looking around at all of us. I knew I could always count on her to be subtle. Not. However, we still all adamantly agree with her and Dom goes back to assessing the two dresses she was carrying earlier. Lucy flounces into her stall to take the, as she just referred to it, 'stupid thing' off. I roll my eyes heavily and shoot Rox (who's silently leaning against her stall's partition) a look. At this rate, it's going to be a long afternoon. I bet the boys are already nearly finished. There's nothing to critique about plain black dress robes after all. Maybe, I could get Al to go to the bank for me. The goblins might bust his balls a bit, but if I give him my vault key it should be alright.

"What do you think Adee? Should cousin Lily make cousin Albie run an errand for her, because Auntie Dom is picky about dresses and this is going to take forever?" I ask the baby gurgling in my arms. Adrian responds by babbling incoherently and again grabbing my hair. It's kind of his thing with me. This time he takes the hair, opens his palm and offers it back to me, his eyes wide and proud. "Oh! Thanks buddy!" I say, pretending to be grateful as I sweep the hair back into its normal position.

Adee grins enthusiastically, but I reluctantly have to put him back in the pram as Dom yells at me and throws a navy blue dress at my head. Apparently, in her opinion, these dresses won't try themselves on. Pity I think, snatching the garment off the carpet and closing myself into a stall resignedly. I can't help wondering, wasn't Molly supposed to have had a dress in mind for us when we got here? Then again, she probably did and then Dom or her sister said they didn't like it. I knew this wasn't going to be a simple in and out thing. Well here goes nothing. I quickly slip on the dress and walk out to be judged.

Over an hour later, I'm standing in front of a full length mirror, getting inspected from every angle by what I've dubbed 'The Panel'. First there's Molly, the bride herself, who holds the power of final decision. Then Dom, the self-dubbed fashion 'expert' of the group, who's arguably the most critical and lastly Lucy, the maid of honor (a.k.a Head Bridesmaid), who thinks anything that falls kind of in her jurisdiction is up to her. Rose (who can't help being bossy) and Victoire (who won't ever let anyone forget she's the oldest) have also weaseled their way into the discussion. Seeing as Rox (who's standing next me in dress option B) and I are the youngest, we got stuck as the models. Truthfully, it's getting to the point where I feel like I'm supposed to be seen and not heard, like some child in the Victorian Era. I'm again wearing the navy dress I tried on earlier and Rox is wearing a black one with an embroidered top and spaghetti straps. These are supposed to be our top two choices and it's taking forever to agree on one over the other.

"I still say black is an inappropriate color, no matter how well it goes with everyone's hair," insists Rose dismissively, "I mean it's a ruddy wedding not a funeral. Plus, the boys will already be wearing black." This is main sticking point about the black one, even though it is pretty. Dom is simply in love with it. She would have no qualms putting it on her own bridesmaids one day. No matter what's decided in the end here, I have a feeling she's going to buy it, have it slightly altered and wear it as an evening dress.

"But the blue is very somber looking too," bemuses Vic, "This is after all, supposed to be a spring wedding. It's a pity we can't find a more vibrant color." Sorry reds, purples, pinks and yellows don't coordinate with our hair like they do yours and Dom's princess, I think dully. Lucy suddenly points out that early March isn't exactly known for warm weather and that it may still be practically wintery. It's good to know we're at the point where we even start debating the seasons. I slouch tiredly against the wall. I've been walking around modeling this one for the last fifteen minutes at least and I need a break from standing and twirling. Immediate remonstrations rain down on me from the panel, as they demand I stand up straight once more.

"But you've already seen every bloody inch of the thing!" I pout, "Put it on someone else instead. We all know Rox and I aren't the tallest here, Rose is. It'll look different on her." Rose scrunches up her face and assures me that the seamstress witch took her measurements, so there's no need for her try it on as well. She's just being bloody lazy, I think spitefully.

"Well, I like the navy color. And I like almost everything else about this one, except its sleeveless and has a bow stuck on the side," I announce, with the air of someone making their final decision.

Roxy, who also looks fed up with modeling, backs up my choice, suggesting we just sever the stupid bows off if we have too, before adding that she especially likes the crisscross pattern on the back of it. Dominique says she prefers the more open back on the black one but agrees whole-heartedly about the stupid bow, grudgingly deciding she's alright with the navy dress without it. Vic is still put off by the muted color, but she and Rose are in my corner about having some sort of sleeves or straps. Lucy also puts her stamp of approval on it, sleeveless or not and finally it's up to Molly. If that sounded confusing, it's because it was.

At this stage my quiet, engaged cousin asks Madame Pointer herself if the dress can be altered for straps and if the bow can be easily removed. The older looking woman emphatically assures her anything is possible. Personally, I get the feeling she's just overjoyed to have a Weasley ordering from her shop and that's why their being so patient and accommodating with us. Hearing exactly the words she wanted to, Molly finally decides on the navy bridesmaid dress. When all is said and done, it will have the crisscross back, spaghetti straps, no bow and the form-fitted bottoms that will end slightly below the knee. Thank freaking Merlin that's over I think, as I change back into my regular clothes. It's just after two now and the boys are probably waiting for us to have lunch. Or, we'll simply have to hex them senseless if they haven't.

As we leave the cool shop, we're immediately taken aback by how warm it's become outside in the direct sunlight. Victoire automatically adjusts the sun visor on Adrian's pram so that he is well shielded and we spread out to look for the boys in the surrounding shops. The search however proves futile, causing us to reconvene outside Madame Pointer's after about 15 minutes, wondering what to do now.

Rose is visibly annoyed. She is somehow under the impression that, because she suggested they stay close they would've listened to her. Dom suggests we just go off and leave them and eat on our own, but Rose promptly comes up with an idea and shuts her down. It's definitely a control thing, in case you were curious. Rose must be in control or she thinks the proverbial ship (the afternoon in this case) will sink into chaos (anarchy too I suppose) around her. My cousin quickly performs the same clever wand work I saw Albus do in the kitchen this morning and I catch a brief flash of silver as her otter Patronus goes gamboling off down the Alley.

As we start walking slowly in its wake, I can't help but feel a jealous twinge. My ruddy Patronus can't send messages just yet, as I just managed to conjure one for the first time during spring term. For your information, she appears as a tigress and a scary looking one at that. If you knew Rose's mum's Patronus was also an otter, you'd probably be under the impression that hers is a bit of a cop out from whatever bits inside her formulate the thing. I did at first, until I realized something. First off, it is not entirely uncommon for that to happen, take for instance my father and his father before him. Both have/had stag Patronuses. My grandfather was even a stag Animagus (talented git, wish I could manage to be an Animagus). And second, it just plain makes sense. Otters are clever, a bit complicated perhaps, and also resourceful. There are probably some other otter-like qualities I'm overlooking (don't judge my memory, it's not like I have one for a pet or anything), but the point is, Rose is all those things.

Thinking about it, as I lazily window shop outside the junk shop with Lucy, the oddest Patronus I've ever seen belongs to my friend Ethan. His is a woodpecker. The Muggleborn was the first in our D.A.D.A class to form a corporeal one, which was no surprise seeing as he's the smartest kid in our year. It's a downright hilarious sight to see him summon it up really, as it even appears to be boring away at an invisible tree after it takes form. Ethan Barclay is a serious bloke and very stubborn… or to make it sound a bit more flattering, very persistent. He could well be named this year's Head Boy in a few short weeks and I'll admit he's bloody well earned it if that's the case. I know Damian has a good shot at the badge too, but I flat refuse to root for one getting it over the other. Whatever happens, I support them both.

"Hey Daydreamer, where are you right now?" asks Luce, grinning and shoving me playfully. Ha-ha. It's not my fault seeing my cousin's Patronus got me thinking about eight other things until I zoned out completely. Ok, maybe I _do_ have a tendency to go off in my own head space a lot. I just think too much is all.

I try to assure her I'm totally in the present, but the 22-year-old gives me a skeptical look. "Oh yea, did you see those garish old dress robes on the mannequin in the corner then? What color were they?" she quizzes me teasingly.

Errr…I don't know… pink? I guess pink. Luce just shakes her head at me and smirks. Yep, I'm totally busted.

"Nope, they were yellow, sunshine yellow! Who would wear those once, let alone buy them used?" she wonders incredulously, "Anyway lets go. It looks like the guys' answer has arrived."

We turn and walk across the street to where Rose, Dom, Vic and Roxy are loitering in front of the window of a small fashion boutique. I arrive just in time, Luce on my heels, to see Al's kingfisher evaporate into thin air. Adrian babbles disappointedly and points at the spot where it had just been, before his mother whips one of his toys out of her bag and hands it to him. I catch the young boy scowling at the stuffed puppy in his hand. It seems he liked the Patronus better. Smart kid, after all the Patronus moves and talks and the puppy doesn't.

"So where are they?" I ask curiously.

Rose rolls her eyes, "Where else, but Quality Quidditch Supplies? And, not only that, but they want us to meet them over there, the lazy oafs. We really ought to have guessed."

Wow she's right, big surprise, would've never expected them to end up there. Obsessed much aren't they? Reluctantly, we set off for the sporting goods shop as a group. Those blokes are lucky it's only a few minutes away or we would have insisted they come to us. I personally can't believe James would spend part of his day off in Quality Quidditch Supplies. First off, it's kind of like taking your work home with you. And second, it's not like he doesn't get all the stuff that store sells free, from either the Arrows or his stupid sponsors. Lastly though (and this might very well explain why James would go there spontaneously), I consider how easily he'd be recognized by fans there. It's like if the Weird Sisters stopped by a musical instrument shop just for kicks. The hell if I can really still read my brother's motives, but I gather I'm not too far off base.

Upon finally zeroing in on the shop, Dom motors ahead of the rest of us impatiently, striding across the cobbles with undeniable purpose. "I'm bleeding starving!" she huffs loudly and dramatically, flinging one of the heavy glass double doors back on its hinges and entering ahead of us, "We're extracting them in 10 minutes or less… or I'm going to crush some skulls." She glares menacingly and I catch a glimpse of a doddering, old sales wizard shirking out of her way. Wincing, I follow her inside. I pass a display of toy brooms for children and start looking for the male members of my family. Dom has disappeared down the aisles in no time.

Soon, I'm easily distracted by a sales rack of new all-weather Quidditch goggles. They are impervious to snow, rain, monsoon (suppose that's not considered normal rain then?), hail, sun glare, fog and high winds. Ooh… could I seriously use a new pair, or two. The ones I have now are basically a worn out piece of rubbish at this point. The impervious charm is wearing off, the strap has broken and been mended a dozen times…etc. I wonder if I can find my size. They're 4 Galleons? Not cheap certainly, but probably worth it. I'm investigating if they have my size, when Dom suddenly reappears to grab my wrist and drag me away.

"Oh Merlin's saggy everything, no you don't Lily-pad. You stop to get goggles and then, all of a sudden, oh you need new arm guards or new gloves. That'll lead to you wanting to look at new shin pads to match or whatever and then it's suddenly 3:30 and we still haven't eaten lunch. Get them later!" hisses my scary, blonde cousin. Yikes, she came out of nowhere.

"But Dommy, I really do _need_ those goggles. I can't keep using the same shitty ones I have now… even in pickup games. What if it rains and all of sudden I can't even score on Hugo because I can't see the ruddy hoops?" I whine. Dominque is unrelenting. We breeze past an aisle filled with all sorts of broom care products. That reminds me, I think I need some diamond-hard handle polish for my Smoke Streamer 7. But Dom still has me by the arm and I can't go back. That's right, did you catch that? I'm currently riding James's old broom that he got for being made prefect _and_ Quidditch captain five years ago. It was so super exclusive then, that it's still very respectable right now. It's served me well the last two years, ever since James hit the pros, upgraded and gave it to me.

In case you're wondering, I would still be in a strop with him right now even if he gave me 50 Smoke Streamer 7's. Anyway, even though I certainly can't complain about its performance, the idea of taking the air this season on my older brother's old ride again is becoming tiresome (infinitely more so because I hate him). I'm thinking I want a new broom. Maybe if I finally get Quidditch captain in a few weeks (we won't discuss why I wasn't named to the post last year after Al graduated), Mum and Dad will consider the purchase. I mean if you think about it in terms of fair, they really should be ok with it, seeing as they bought brooms for Albus and wonder-boy James because they attained captainship. I'll have to start keeping my eyes peeled for something I like.

"There they are!" says Roxy suddenly, coming up next to us and pointing to a group of all wizards, ten feet away. Louis, Fred, Albus, Hugo and (to my delight) Teddy are all crowded around the Quality Quidditch Supplies wind tunnel demonstration chamber in the back of the shop. Instinctively, I notice James is nowhere to be found.

"C'mon then you tossers!" declares Dom loudly, walking up behind them, "Aren't you about ready to eat a hippogriff? I know I am." The guys chose to live dangerously and ignore her.

Over their shoulders I see a young blonde boy (so clearly not my oldest brother) in the wind chamber, testing a brand new broom model called The Javelin. It's supposed to be the fastest, straightest, truest-flying racing broom ever made, according to the advertisements I've seen. It's not really suited for Quidditch though. It's for street flying races, which are growing in popularity by the day. Pure speed brooms, like The Javelin, have little or no creature comforts to speak of. Supposedly, their harder on the ass then any broomstick made after 1820 when the Cushioning Charm was first invented. The manufacturers think they can get away with that because you don't spend hours at a time on them like you do playing Quidditch. Hell, if it wasn't mandated by the bylaws handed down by the Department of Magical Games & Sports, I doubt they'd even have Braking Charms incorporated in them. That all said, it goes over 210 miles per hour, to the delight of young male wizards everywhere. Most of which, would indeed take a giant splinter in their ass to go that fast. I'm not sure I feel quite the same, although I'd probably just like to have at least one or two goes on it for curiosities sake.

Next to the colorful ad and a small rack of Javelins, is a display for another new broom model: The Razor. Although it sounds simple, and a bit similar to its display neighbor, The Razor is more of a traditional Quidditch broom, all jacked up. Its sharp, pinpoint turns (where it gets it moniker from) are the best since the old Firebolt series, it reaches speeds of around 185 with a firm tailwind and it's got excellent balance. Come to think of it, it may very well be my next broom. Rumor also has it, that both the English and Scottish National Squad's Chasers will be using them in the World Cup final next weekend.

"C'mon!" hisses Dom again, (I'm surprised she's still this calm) tugging at both Louis and Fred's t-shirts emphatically, "I want to eat lunch and down a couple shots of firewhiskey. Dress shopping for weddings should be in the Cursebreaker Torture Training Modules. Another hour and I'd have mentally cracked. Where's Jimmy for Merlin's sakes?"

They ignore her again and continue to gape at The Javelin in action. I kind of doubt they are actually hearing her over the sounds of their own adrenaline rushing in their ears. I look nervously around the shop and so does Rox. There are a lot of witnesses around here, too many for Dom to safely commit murder.

"You reckon if we all pooled our Galleons, we could buy two and races them every day for the duration of the summer?" opines Fred, his dark blue eyes wide. I snort incredulously. He's a quality International Beater, why would he want a street-racing broom? Suddenly, I notice that Vic, Rose, Molly and Lucy have caught up at last. From his pram, Adee also ogles The Javelin in awe. Ah, they start so young with that broom envy.

"Honestly mate," says Teddy to Fred, "You're a big time professional now. Can't you damn well afford two of these no problem? In Godric's name, I wish I had the Galleons to get one all to myself." I catch Victoire's eyes narrow and she places her hands on her hips. Ted doesn't know what's coming.

"Theodore Remus Lupin!" barks the part-veela angrily, "If you ever so much as mount a broomstick that goes that fast, I will have you beheaded and thrown into a fiery abyss." Yikes, as if the beheading part wouldn't be a painful death enough? I've never outright asked him, but I'd bet galleons Nearly-Headless Nick didn't enjoy his very much.

Her husband jumps a foot, turns around and grins sheepishly. "Sorry, Rie love," he says, changing his hair to match hers on a whim, "I wouldn't actually get one. On an Auror's salary how could I?" Teddy gives her the puppy dog eyes and Vic softens a little. The reason they're such an effective weapon for him is because he actually changes them to a dog's doleful, extra-large eyes.

"Hmmph, just because you can't buy one, doesn't mean you'll never find an opportunity to ride one!" she chides, "Say one of these clowns ever gets one, you'd be unable to control yourself. Then, one wrong turn on this death machine and splat! I'm a widow and your kids are half-way to orphan!" Vic waves her arms and gestures at herself and Adrian.

Merlin, I hope she's not warming herself up for a full-on lecture/fight. Quality Quidditch Supplies will probably ban us for a year if she does. Our family's been known to resort to dueling at a moment's notice. Trying to catch Ted's eye, I suddenly notice his posture has stiffened and his eyebrows are raised questioningly as he gazes at his wife.

My oldest cousin has reddened considerably and suddenly makes a small noise of surprise before shaking her head no at him. "I'm sorry love, that's not what that meant," she says. Ted sighs and nods carefully while raking a hand through hair. That's his go-to distracted tic. So, I'm clearly missing something from this exchange. Not what she meant about what? I notice Rox and Lucy sharing bewildered looks of their own.

"What do you mean kids?" interjects Dom helpfully (at least someone seems to be reading Ted/Vic code), "As in, more than one…" Her blue eyes are flitting suspiciously between the married couple.

"Victoire!" hisses Rose quietly, so as not to be heard in the next aisle, "Are you telling us you're pregnant!?" That's Rose for you, never one to flinch from getting straight to the heart of the matter, even in a public establishment. The expressions on all of the boy's faces are a hilarious mix of shocked realization and impatience, as they wait for the part-veela's answer. I mean, they've even stopped watching the Javelin.

Before I can even begin to assess my own feelings on the subject, Vic walks over to Teddy and they immediately put their heads together. After a few moments of whispering and nodding at each other, the couple turns to face us all. My cousin already looks perfectly composed again, but that's hardly surprising. Victoire Weasley was practically born with her limitless poise. Teddy rakes a hand through his hair again and I notice its gone flaming red. He's more prone to changing when he's emotional. He clears his throat and puts his arm around Vic's shoulders.

"No Rose, Victoire is not pregnant," he says with a sigh and a glance at his wife, "But that doesn't mean we aren't trying. We've both agreed that, with me finally out of Auror training and well-established and Vic's promotion having taken effect that we're in a good place, both mentally and financially. So now, hopefully, we can give Adee a baby brother or sister." Ted punctuates this announcement by swooping down and kissing Vic on the cheek.

Victoire shares a smile with him, before interjecting, "We don't want there to be too big of a gap between our children. The more time they share at Hogwarts together the better." She walks over to the pram and picks up Adrian, who's started babbling loudly as a result of all this strained silence around him. Poor kid, he literally has no idea what's going on.

"Well than why'd you say _kids_ just now?" asks Fred curiously. A bunch of us roll our eyes at him and just like that… the awkward tension is broken. Teddy walks over and lightly cuffs the confused wizard in the back of the head.

"It was just a slip of the tongue Freddy!" says Vic impatiently, "I meant hypothetical future_ kids_. One day Teddy and I will have more than one kid and God forbid I have to raise them on my own because you bunch of nutters are too reckless in your hobbies." She bounces Adrian a few more times and hands him to Ted. The Metamorphagus playfully does a couple changes to please the kid (monkey ears and pig snouts) before settling the now happy youngster back in his pram. Freddy simply shrugs and goes to turn back to the wind chamber.

"Oh no you don't!" cries Dom, leaping forward and getting in front of him. Clearly, now that prospect of having a new niece or nephew on the way is off the table, she's decided to return to her original goal of getting the boys out of this shop. "Broom envy is a shameful waste of your time Fred Weasley!" Dom lectures, "Especially when you must be positively famished. We all know that breakfast at Aunt Ginny's isn't even enough to hold your appetite more than a few hours."

"Yeah, you do have a point there cuz," agrees Freddy readily, "But we can't leave yet. We have to wait for Jimmy to get back. Plus, I stopped at one of my Dad's Dragon-Roasted Nut machines on the way over here, so I'm alright for the moment."

"What? You mean he's not even here?" says Dom incredulously. The hyped-up blonde is unable to stop herself from looking around in circles for him nonetheless. A growl of frustration escapes from her lithe frame as she paces like an agitated cat. What? I'm just being honest. She looks ready to pounce.

"Yeah," pipes up Louis, "Said he needed to run an urgent errand not long after we got here. That was over an hour ago though …and he wouldn't say what it was." Merlin, that's not suspicious James, secret errands that you won't even tell your family about.

"Where is he Al?" asks Rose, rounding on my other brother pointedly. We all can't help but stare at Albus, who aside from Freddy and Trev (who isn't here), knows James better than anyone. The bewildered expression on bespectacled wizard's face however, is not encouraging.

"I don't know," says Albus sheepishly, his ears reddening with embarrassment. I suppose that is embarrassing, having no clue about the details of your own sibling's personal life when a large group of people are expecting you too. Although, I have to admit, I'm surprised at Rose. She ought to know better. Al and James really haven't spoken much in months. So how _would_ he know? The others, I could understand their not being up-to-date on Potter sibling drama. But Rose, her and Al are too close for that. My brother pulls back his cap and scratches his head before turning to Ted for support.

"Don't look at me!" says the oldest member of our group, raising his hands helplessly, "That kid hasn't let me in on the juicy details in months. The title of foster big bro is apparently counting for less and less these days." He winces and sticks his hands in the pockets of his shorts, thumbs jutting out of the belt loops as usual. Ugh, ring up another person getting a raw deal from this egomaniac version of James S. Potter.

"Not with me Teddy," I blurt out earnestly.

"Yeah, or with me," says Albus, quickly catching my drift, "You'll always be family to us Ted."

"Well, that's good to know!" he says smiling, "Seeing as it's been official for a few years now." He's teasing, but I can tell he's grateful for the support. If it wasn't for us lot (Weasley and Potters combined) Teddy Lupin wouldn't have much of a family. All that's left, biologically speaking, is his Gran Andromeda (his mum's mum), and she's getting on in years.

"See!" Dom suddenly hollers (loud enough that customers in the next aisle turn their heads), "He's even a dick to Ted now. Why are we waiting for him exactly? I say we split." She then turns to Fred adding, "If you bloody well want to send him a Patronus that's up to you."

"Now I never said it like-" starts the easy-going Metamorphmagus. But he suddenly gets cut off mid-objection.

"Oi!" yells a jovial baritone voice from down the far end of the aisle, "What'd I miss?" Sure enough, you speak of the devil and he appears. Even though I don't want to acknowledge him, I've always been curious to fault. So as my brother strides towards us, I notice a few obvious things. His hair is sticking up more than usual, his polo shirt is rumpled and mis-buttoned and he's missing a sock. James comes to a stop in the middle of our gaping group with a cocky smile plastered on his face and pocketing his sunglasses. Merlin, he's so oblivious.

Dom steps forward smirking. Oh Gryffindor, this is going to be good. My cousin steps right up to James and grabs at his mussed up shirt. "Here cuz let me help you out…you must've left Madame Pointer's in such a rush you forgot a few buttons…" Dom starts fixing James's shirt as the confident smile slips off his face.

"Oh I…err yea…thanks Dom…you know these blokes, probably forgot to tell me 'bout them just for a laugh," he chuckles hesitantly, combing a nervous hand through his raven hair and waving his other fist at the guys.

"Mhmmmm," croons the blonde soothingly as she pauses to look him over. "There, all done with the buttons. You're still looking a bit rumpled though, but that's nothing a simple Ironing Spell can't fix. We can't have your fans seeing you all disheveled can we?" She pulls out her wand and twirls it expectantly.

"Ah well, if you insist," agrees James, and looking around at us all his grin returns. I have to hand it to Dominique here, she's really playing this well. My cousin could prey on/cater to a person's insecurities on a Knut. It must be a damn good asset for her at work. He opens his hands invitingly and waits for the spell.

Dominique grins pleasantly and waves her wand at his gold and scarlet striped polo. But instead of the wrinkles disappearing, an odd thing happens. The shirt starts wriggling and constricting before our eyes, almost as if invisible snakes were wrapping around his torso.

"What the…" yelps James, his hazel eyes going wide with shock. My brother alertly grabs for his collar, but he can't get much of a grip as it's already pressed tight to his skin. As I watch, his short sleeves dig into his shoulders a bit and his face starts to turn bright red.

"Merlin Dom!" mutters Luce, a bit alarmed, "Don't hurt him." A bunch of my cousins starting muttering in agreement, but something has me holding my tongue. Dom wouldn't hurt Jimmy for real, especially not in public like this. She's probably just shaking him up a bit, in true Cursebreaker style nonetheless. I have to admit, if I was James, I'd probably being crapping myself already.

"C'mon Dom enough!" gasps my brother in a panic, as he tries to move his hand back to his pocket in search of his own wand. Unfortunately, he's too constricted to do much else than leave them at his sides. James's tone has a few people staring our way, but it's not like their right on top of us. The kid from the wind tunnel has apparently cleared off ages ago.

"S'alright everyone," says Dom loudly, stepping right up James once more, "My friend here insisted on trying on the small Gryffindor replica polo and it's just a wee bit tight. There, there relax mate, I'll get you out. I told you, you ought to cut back on the Fortescue specials!" She pats him playfully in the stomach and the people go back to their shopping.

"Dominique enough!" hisses Vic dangerously when it is all clear, "You've nearly caused a scene!"

Dom rolls her slate blue eyes. "Ugh, I thought you lot wanted answers! Look at him. He's a ruddy mess. Bed hair, hurriedly put on clothes, missing sock…clearly his important 'errand' was him going off for some secret shag! Who was she Jimmy, that winner of yours Lucia? Or a desperate fan broad?" she asks menacingly.

"I don't know what you mean…" James tries to splutter, going another deeper shade of red in the process. Dom reaches out and punches him flush in the arm. He winces predictably and shuts up.

"No!" says Dom, suddenly as serious as I've ever seen her, "This is the end of the line little cuz. The lying and man-whoring stop right now. We're all Gryffindor's here and your family, so you can't take the coward's way out with us a second longer. Now, what they haven't realized is I'm not really hurting you yet, but that can change real fast. I can squeeze a couple more breaths out of you before you pass out… just like you've been squeezing the joy out of this group with your shite. First it's that performance at breakfast and now you keep us all waiting over a conquest? For the last time, who is she?"

I almost feel bad for my 20-year-old brother. He's locked in what acts like a Half-Body Bind in the middle of QQS, while we all wait for him to finally hold himself accountable for his questionable actions. I said almost. He did have this reality check coming.

James looks around and suddenly bows his head. "Alright fine…" he whispers, so low I have to step forward a couple paces from the fringe of the group, "I'm shagging Cassie Vetter, seeker of the Kenmare Kestrels and… and daughter of English National Coach Hugh Vetter."

Just like that, our Quidditch star has left us in an unpredictable stunned silence. There are only a couple of us here who don't know that name off the top of our heads and James has sportingly filled in the context for those few. Damn. I was truly just expecting it to be some random devoted fan, but this is much worse. Or… is it better? I'm not actually sure.

See, Cassie Vetter is 24 years-old and no question an elite Seeker. She's even going to the World Cup Final on her father's team. She sounds like a catch huh? But, the thing of it is, her father's team…is our team. James is on the standby list for this team. If anyone gets hurt between now and the first whistle against Scotland, the country's going to be screaming for him. It appears that James is practically sleeping his way to the World Cup. At least that's what the public will think if it ever gets out.

Dom recovers from her shock first. The blonde snorts and shakes her head incredulously and then after a wave of her wand, my brother falls back onto the carpet in a heap. He rubs his throat and gives us all a sheepish look. Dom starts walking away without even a backwards glance in his direction. "Let's please just get out of here?" he implores us, as Freddy helps dutifully helps him to his feet, "We can talk about this later."

"You're damn right we will," says Al quietly, as he shares a look with me and follows after Dom. Soon, we're all moving to exit Quality Quidditch Supplies and before long it's like someone's turned the volume back on. The boys, except Albus and Ted are all pressing James for details and most of the girls are shooting judging looks there way. I just press forward, my eyes on Al and Dom's leading figures, ignoring attempts from Rox to catch my eye. Merlin, why isn't anything ever what it seems with this family?


End file.
